Harry Potter and the Days of Future's Past
by Elaina the Ice Queen
Summary: It had been years since Harry realised that Voldemort was nothing but a pawn, and Albus Dumbledore was always behind the game silently watching it unfold. And so Hermione decides to goes back, back to the very beginning. Slytherin!Harry/Hermione. Time-travel.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **Harry Potter and the Days of Future's Past.**

 **.**

 _ **I. Prologue.**_

 _ **.**_

Darkness.

Harry Potter woke to pitch black, to the creakings of a hard bed, and a throbbing head-which kept him awake in the middle of the night, leaning against the wood and staring at the witch who was lying next to him.

"Hermione?" he whispered, threading his hand in hers, and reluctantly, Hermione opened her hazel eyes and stared back at him. "Are you awake?"

Hermione leaned closer to him, until their foreheads were touching slightly. " _Yes."_

He pushed his glasses up his nose, met her eyes in one last second of silence before the storm arrived, before they came and destroyed everything, until there was nothing but ashes and a whisper of what once was.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and Hermione shifted slightly next to him, put her arms around her neck, and nodded once.

He stood up, and pulled her along with him, Hermione grimacing slightly as she stood to her feet.

She was still sore from the array of curses that had hit her yesterday, when she and Harry and Lupin had stood in the middle of London, fighting the army of wizards who smiled maliciously them.

They had gotten away in time, with Lupin badly hurt, and tears streaming down Hermione's face as she saw people she loved, people she knew, fall to the ground by her doing, even if they were firing curses at her also.

Their eyes were cold.

They changed disguises as usual, Harry's hair turning blond, and his eyes turning the color of the sky that twinkled above; Hermione's hair turning black, though her eyes still remained brown.

She took off his glasses and placed them on her bed, smoothed his hair back and gave him a watery smile.

"Are you sure about this, Hermione?"

"Yes," she said, although the Time Turner burned a hole in her pocket, and her hands were sweating.

 _Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time._

 _Could this work?_ she thought as Harry took a deep breath and they both apparated to Diagon Alley.

 _She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure._

But still, the little glimmer of hope was still brighter than the present that was unfolding in front of them, and as Hermione inhaled, they had no choice.

They had to go back.

.

 _ **II. Memories.**_

 _ **.**_

It had been four years since the Battle of Hogwarts since Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord, and still, he remembered.

It had been four years since he had seen Voldemort fall to the ground, and four years since he had realised that the game was never over, that it was only beginning.

It had been years since Harry realised that Voldemort was nothing but a pawn, and Albus Dumbledore was always behind the game silently watching it unfold.

Harry cursed himself silently under his breath, a murmur that lingered in the darkness of Diagon Alley, he should have known. _He should have known._

 _We seize control for the greater good._

How could he have been so blind?

They had fought valiantly when he had first seized control and broken the International Law of Secrecy, took over the muggle world and the wizarding one, and darkness began to set in, the storm began to swirl.

They lost hope, and most of what was left of Dumbledore's Army-including Ron and Ginny- joined Albus Dumbledore in fighting for the greater good, killing muggles for _pleasure._

They were the only ones who hid, Harry, Hermione, the Weasley twins, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Neville, Luna, Lupin and another handful of wizards and witches that had still stayed with them.

There had been hope the first few years, the flame of confidence and fury that still kept them alive, but then as they saw wizard after wizard fall into darkness, the hope had dimmed, and instead there had been shedded tears and half-hearted whispers, murmurs in the dark.

No hope, no light.

 _Nothing._

Someone had to go back, to change things, to convince eighteen year old Harry to open his eyes to see who the real enemy was, and try and stop everything from shattering into pieces.

Hermione had volunteered in the middle of the night at their hideaway, her lips pressed against his, and he shook his head, his head. His voice was cracked. " _No, Hermione."_

" _It's the only way,"_ she said, kissing his neck and peeling away layers of clothing.

And he had agreed, finally, shaking in her arms and holding on to her hand.

Hermione was going to go back, and everything would change, everything would be different.

But still, he a harrowing sense of danger and concern, that it would be dark and dangerous and difficult going back.

After all, _terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time._

.

 **III.**

 **Diagon Alley.**

 **.**

Hermione walked through the stores with Harry, until they met the abandoned building that was once Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

The twin's faces looked grave when they walked in, too pale, their brows furrowed and them unnaturally thin.

 _When had this happened? When had even Fred and George lost hope?_

"Are you ready, Hermione?" George asked, as he handed her a piece of broken off chocolate, and ate the other half hungrily.

She nodded, even if she wasn't, and she didn't think she could be brave, not in a time like this, where there was nothing but desolation and fear and darkness.

She held the Time Turner in her hand, and she was about to turn it, when Harry appeared by her side and whispered in her ear, " _I love you. Remember that, Hermione."_

And she couldn't help the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, staining her face and making her fall backwards slightly.

"Be safe, Hermione. Come back alive."

She was crying now, of love and loss and shedded blood in both wars, of the glance that Harry gave her before the attack, of Tonks holding Lupin's hand just before she passed into darkness, of pain and ashes, of lost innocence.

Hermione glanced back at Harry again, her auburn eyes glistening, twisting the time turner to the exact date and time and place, closing her eyes.

And then she was gone.

* * *

 **A/n: Hope you like this!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter and the Days of Future's Past.**

 **.**

 **Chapter Two.**

 **.**

 **I. Transport.**

 **.**

The world was spinning underneath his feet, turning in a million directions so Hermione couldn't quite keep her balance while time and place and date were changing, and she closed her eyes, waited.

She thought of Harry, of his words and her tears and Fred and George going pale, and she clutched the Time Turner even tighter in her palm.

Everything had led up to this; she had risked death with Harry sneaking to bookstores and libraries, to see how to charm the Time Turner so it would allow her to go back a longer period in time, and would transport her twenty- seven year old consciousness into a seventeen year old body.

Something about a younger her made Hermione's blood freeze.

She had been _different_ then. They all had were different then, when everything was wrong and Albus Dumbledore was the only one who could be trusted.

Hermione had hope then, a flame that would not diminish, childish hope that lingered; she had been reckless, willing to sacrifice anything and everything for the goal of killing Voldemort, anything and everything for Harry.

She still would.

Hermione thought of him, in the split second before she went back in time, of his glasses sliding off his face, his eyes, familiar in any colour-brown, blue or brilliant green.

 _Harry._

She closed her eyes again, and the air shifted to accommodate her weight, the air burning her lungs as she inhaled.

Hermione clutched the Time Turner tighter in her hand, and she was falling, through time, through space, and then, slowly, landing.

.

 **II. Back.**

 **.**

Hermione tumbled back slightly at the impact of it, and fell backwards.

She rubbed her eyes and blinked. There were students here, in robes and carrying bags and laughing as they passed by, settling into their seats.

She let out a breath.

 _The Hogwarts Express._

But what year was she in? She tried to help herself up, and as she did, she caught an image of herself in the fogged glass. Bushy hair, brown eyes, teeth that were a little too large that rested on her bottom lip.

She pulled out her wand from her pocket, and there was a crumpled up little note that said: _Good luck making friends at Hogwarts! -Mum_

She must have arrived in her first time aboard the Hogwart Express.

Hermione lurched forward again as the train moved, and winced as she hit the floor yet again.

"Are you alright?" a shadow loomed over her as she looked up, green eyes widened in worry as he helped her up.

Merlin, he was so _young._

"Yes," Hermione said, brushing off her clothes and standing up. "Thank you for helping me up!"

Harry smiled. "No problem," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "What's your name?"

She grinned. "Hermione."

"I'm Harry," he said, his green eyes twinkling. "Would you like to sit with me, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

They walked through the train until they found an empty compartment. The door slid open and Hermione and Harry stepped in, relaxing as they settled into their seats.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Harry replied, blushing slightly. "How did you know?"

Hermione shook her head. "You're famous, you know that?" she said, a little too loudly. "On all the History books about how you're the person who defeated You-Know-Who."

Harry pulled out a chocolate frog and removed the card, the card of Dumbledore smiling and moving. "I got this on the trolley," he said as he handed another one to her. "You-know-who as in Voldemort?"

Hermione didn't flinch this time, and Harry looked mildly surprised. "You aren't afraid to say his name!"

Hermione smiled. "It's just a name, isn't it?"

Harry nodded as if he was in thought, of what Hagrid told his earlier, and how his name was like a curse. "Yeah," he said finally. "Just a name."

They then talked about Muggles, and how Hermione had discovered she was a witch and how thousands of owls had tried to find Harry, and about Hogwarts, how the ceiling looked exactly like the night sky, or so 'Hogwarts: A History' said.

Just then, the door slid open and a boy with a chubby face walked in, his face flushed and a toad sitting on his palm, croaking.

He stumbled slightly as he stood at the doorway. "Can I sit with you?" he said. "No one will let me sit with them."

"Of course!" Hermione said cheerfully, patting the seat next to her. "What's your name?"

"Neville Longbottom," he said. "And you two…."

"Hermione Granger," she said, before Harry could open his mouth. "And that's Harry Potter."

Neville widened his eyes for a second, but said nothing, and Harry breathed in relief when he didn't say _Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?_

Neville sat down and there was a slight _smush_ as he got up and discovered he was sitting on a chocolate frog.

He opened it, and inside another card of Dumbledore smiling. "No! I got hundreds of Dumbledore cards."

Hermione suddenly remembered her first year and how information had been on that card, and she extended her hand out to Neville. "Can I keep it? I'm a muggle-born and I've never collected cards before."

He handed it to her and she stuck it gingerly in the pocket of her robes, next to her wand.

"Do you know spells, Hermione?" Harry asked, and he pulled out his wand, waved it once.

"Some," Hermione said, taking out her wand, pointing it to Harry's glasses. " _Repairo!"_

The glasses were no longer crooked, and Neville looked at her in awe.

The door slid open again, and this time, Ron Weasley stepped in, his red hair flying.

"The other compartments are full. Can I sit here?"

Hermione pressed her lips together as Harry nodded and moved wrappers from the seat next to him.

"I'm Ron Weasley. Are you first years too?"

"Yes," Harry and Neville said, and Hermione merely nodded, her eyes focusing in the distance.

"Blimey!" Ron cried suddenly when he got a closer look at Harry and the lighting scar on his forehead. "You're Harry Potter!"

Harry nodded sheepishly. "Er...Yeah."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and she felt fury at him even if he was only eleven years old, of him leaving them when they most needed help. "He _knows_ he's Harry Potter."

Harry laughed, and Ron lowered her head and shot her a look. "Who are _you_?"

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Where are you hoping to be sorted?" Ron said, ignoring Hermione. "I hope I'm in Gryffindor. _Where the brave dwell at heart_!"

"I don't really know," Harry shrugged. "I grew up with muggles like Hermione."

"Well," Hermione started. "There are four houses in Hogwarts, and when we go in, we'll be sorted. Gryffindor is for the brave, and Ravenclaw is for those who crave knowledge. Hufflepuff is for the loyal and Slytherin is for the cunning and ambition-"

"But who would want to be in _Slytherin,_ " Ron inturupted, wrinkling his nose. "Everyone from there are slimy, evil gits."

Hermione's eyes flashed. She thought of Snape, who was in Slytherin, but who paid the ultimate price because of his love for Lily Evans; she thought of Peter Pettigrew who was in Gryffindor, but still betrayed his best friends and left their son an orphan.

All her life in Hogwarts, she thought she had it figured out. Good people were in Gryffindor, the evil were in Slytherin, and the rest fell in between. But now, she knew the truth, that there were brave people, _good_ people in Slytherin as well as in Gryffindor, and there were people who were evil in both as well.

Choices and the person you choose to be don't have to do with the house in which you've been sorted.

"That's not true," Hermione said hotly. "Not everyone in Slytherin is evil."

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "How would you know? You're a muggle-born, you wouldn't know anything about the Wizarding World."

She ignored his comment. "Merlin was in Slytherin, you know that, don't you? After all, a muggle-born knows it."

His ears reddened, and he murmured to Harry. " _Insufferable know-it-all._ "

"Don't call her that," Harry frowned. "She's my friend."

"Well she is, she thinks she's queen of the world," Ron said, glaring at her, and his fingers tightening around his seat. "Thinking she knows everything…"

"If you want to call Hermione that," Harry said angrily, his cheeks red and his eyes narrowed into green slits. "Then you can just go find another seat."

" _Fine_ ," Ron said. "I won't say anything about her anymore. If that makes you happy."

"It does," Harry said firmly, as Hermione sensed the nervousness in the air and changed the subject to Diagon Alley and the rest of the Wizarding World.

Ron spent the rest of the ride staring out the window, his face formed into a scowl.

"Quidditch," Harry said when he heard Neville bring it up. "What's that?"

Neville's eyes widened. "You don't know about Quidditch, Harry? It's the most famous sport of the Wizarding World!"

"Raised by muggles," Harry said. "Remember?"

Hermione laughed as Neville grinned. "Oh yeah, right. Sorry, Harry."

The rest of the train ride had been pleasant, full of chocolate frogs and sherbet whizzes and laughter. Except when Ron would murmur under his breath whenever Hermione said something, and would laugh when Harry demonstrated lack of knowledge of the Wizarding World.

The train pulled to a stop, and Hermione, Harry and got off the train. Or, at least _tried_ to. The older students were pushing past them and Hermione and Harry nearly lost each other in the crowd.

"Firs' years!" Hermione heard a familiar voice call out, and she grinned as she and Harry and Neville, who was holding Trevor tightly in the palm of his hand, followed him. "You alright, Harry?"

They followed him down the path until they saw the shadow of Hogwarts looming over them and first years gasped. Harry held his breath when he saw it, his first sight of Hogwarts in all its glory.

"Four to one boat!" Hagrid called, and Hermione, Neville and Harry climbed into one along with other first years. Ron came rushing for the last seat on their boat just as a boy with white blond hair was about to, and the boy scowled at him.

They glided forward, through the lake, which was smooth, and Harry closed his eyes, smiled at Hermione.

She smiled back. "Good luck on the sorting," she whispered.

"You know," Ron said suddenly to him, and he jumped. "You shouldn't be friends with them. I mean, Neville's a right mess; he forgets and loses everything, and _her,_ who would want to be friends with her?"

Harry shook his head and was still for a moment. "I think I'm able to decide who my friends are without anyone else telling me otherwise," he said, and Ron shook with fury.

"I thought we could be friends," Ron said. "Because you're Harry Potter, I thought we'd get along. But turns out, you're just as bad as them."

He ignored him, and they passed through a dark tunnel with smooth pebbles and seaweed, before the boats stopped, and Hagrid gestured for them to get out and follow him.

"I heard what he said," Neville said when he and Hermione met Harry at the steps. "What Ron Weasley said about us."

"Well," Harry shrugged. "He's a liar."

Neville grinned, and the three of them walked the steps to the entrance of Hogwarts.

"Everyone alright?" Hagrid said, and checking to see if all the first years were, he raised his fist and knocked three times on the door.

 **.**

 **II. Hogwarts.**

 **.**

Harry stepped in, and his heart leaped.

"Hello, first years," a woman with grey hair said sternly as they stepped in. "My name is Professor McGonagall. Welcome to Hogwarts."

A few people clapped, but most of them fidgeted nervously, thinking about being sorted into one of the four houses.

"You are to be sorted into one of four houses," she continued. "Each House has its own noble history and to be sorted into one of them, you are to require qualities of bravery, for Gryffindor; loyalty for Hufflepuff; thirst for knowledge for Ravenclaw and ambition and cunningness for Slytherin."

Hermione saw Harry swallow, and she felt her own heart beat nervously. Would she still be sorted into the same house this second time? Did she even want to? If she knew that Harry and Dumbledore's path would cross, and she had to change the road he had gone the first time.

"Follow me, first years," McGonagall said, and all the first years followed her down the hallway.

The doors of the Great Hall opened, and Harry was hit by excitement and nervousness, he looked at the four tables, and saw students with robes digging into their food, he looked up and saw that Hermione was right, the ceiling was dotted with stars.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Neville breathed, and Harry nodded.

Harry then watched as the first years went to the left, as Mcgonagall pulled out a frayed, dirty had that Harry was sure not for decoration.

To his amazement, there was an opening to the hat, and it began to sing. Harry stared, dumbfounded, as Hermione whispered in his ear. " _That's the sorting hat."_

The students in the tables, began to clap, especially Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, who were making strange noises that made everyone laugh.

" _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands, though I have none_

 _For I'm a thinking cap!_ "

The hat finished, and Hermione clapped as loud as she could, smiling.

The applause finally faded after a few minutes, with an exaggerated scream from Fred, and the sorting was about to begin.

 **.**

 **IV. The Sorting.**

 **.**

"Abbott, Hannah," McGonagall called, and a girl sat on the four legged chair for barely a second before the hat yelled out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table cheered as she made her way to the table, and Harry saw them all extend their hand to her and welcome her.

His heart was beating, and his palms were sweating as the names before him were called, and he waited for Hermione's and Neville's turn, hoping they all would be in the same House.

 **.**

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione stepped on, and she made sure the Time Turner was still in her pocket, hot and metallic, smoothing it with her fingers.

 _I need to be in the same house as Harry,_ she thought, _I need to change things._

 _It's your own choice, Miss Granger,_ the hat replied. _I know you've been sorted once before. There is potential…very good…a longing to prove yourself, loyalty, yes….smarts,…., and ambition to do great things. Yes, I see that too._

"SLYTHERIN!"

Ron looked at her with knowing eyes as the school applauded her, especially the Slytherin table, and she smiled when one boy moved over and grinned at her.

She was hungry, and her stomach growled as the plates stood untouched in front of the other students.

"Have to wait until the sorting's over," someone next to her said, smiling. "But I wish we could eat already. I'm starving."

"I am too," Hermione said.

 **.**

"Longbottom, Neville!"

Neville sat in the chair, his pulse pounding. His parents were in Gryffindor, and he knew he should be, too. But the truth was, did he really want to? He wanted to join Hermione from where she was waving at him, he wanted to have real friends, he wanted to do great things.

 _Interesting,_ the hat said, and Neville swallowed. _I sorted your parents before. Their brains were different than yours._

He was silent as they hat continued speaking in his head.

 _Potential…yes. Even if you can't see it now….bravery…loyalty., It is your choice, Longbottom._

He thought about Gryffindor, of the people who had laughed at him on the train, and of Hermione and Harry, who were the only people who were nice to him.

 _With Hermione,_ he thought. _Because she's the only friend I've got._

 _Really?_ The hat said. _Slytherin? Very well, I see potential, a need for leadership that would perhaps grow in Slytherin. If that's what you want, Longbottom._

"SLYTHERIN!"

McGonagall was flustered for a moment, as he walked towards Hermione. She'd never expect it. _Slytherin._

Albus Dumbledore shook his head slightly at the two who were now laughing. He had thought they would be suitable friend for Harry Potter. Oh well, he thought as he focused his eyes on the Weasley. Ron Weasley would have to do.

Neville settled next to Hermione, who was still staring at him, and laughed.

"I chose this," he said, and Hermione nodded. "I chose Slytherin because I thought that I could make friends."

"You will," she said, and she screamed as something slimy brushed her arm. "TOAD!"

"Sorry 'bout that, Hermione," Neville said, as he picked up Trevor and stuck him in his pocket.

 **.**

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry walked to the front of the Great Hall, ignoring the whispers.

"Harry Potter! Really!"

"I hope he gets into our house!"

"Imagine if he got into Slytherin like that girl before him!"

McGonagall held out a hand, to silence the crowd perhaps, and the hat went on his head.

 _Yes,_ the hat said, and Harry looked around to see if anyone else heard it, but figured it was only inside his head. _Harry Potter. Your friends, Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom are all in Slytherin._

 _I know,_ he thought.

 _Your parents were sorted into Gryffindor, would you like to join them?_ the hat asked. _Though I see loyalty, and cunning, bravery for friends. You-know-who was in Slytherin._

 _Hermione told met that the bravest person she knew was from Slytherin,_ he thought. _It doesn't matter if Voldemort was in it._

 _Very well,_ the hat said. _Is this your choice?_

"SLYTHERIN!"

The whole school went still, there were no whispers, no murmurs at all as Harry made his way to the Slytherin table, through the ghosts, where Nearly Headless Nick was looking scandalized and the Bloody Baron merely showed Harry his teeth.

Finally, the Slytherin table erupted in cheers, and he could see Hermione and Neville clapping with all their might.

He sat down next to Hermione, and she grinned at him with large front teeth. "It's going to be a great year, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, and his stomach growled at the smell of treacle tart. "I guess it will!"

 **.**

"Harry," Neville nudged him after the speech and the sorting ended, and Harry nearly choked over his potatoes. "Dumbledore's looking at you strangely."

Harry shrugged, but Hermione shook her head, and wondered if his plans had been altered.

"Don't trust him," Hermione whispered in his ear as Neville was talking to the boy across from him, a pale boy called Theodore Nott. "Just believe me. Don't trust him."

Harry nodded, and believed her because of the look in her eyes, and they continued eating and talking, with the blond boy who had nearly got on the boat with them named Draco Malfoy, and the boy that was sitting across from Hermione that talked to her about books and the muggle world called Blaise Zabini.

She felt at home with these people, and Hermione couldn't imagine what she was thinking when she thought that Slytherins were all cold and cruel.

"Weasley's jealous," Draco said, pointing to the Gryffindor table where Ron sat, brooding. "Probably jealous that I'm talking to you."

"He's an idiot," Harry said, and Draco laughed.

 **.**

 **V. SLYTHERIN DUNGEONS.**

 **.**

After dinner was over and Harry felt so full he could explode, the first years followed the Slytherin prefects down to the dungeons.

He barely noticed that the people that were painted in the portraits were moving, because he was so tired, and Hermione had to support him by one arm as they walked down flights of stairs, stairs that _moved._

"Here we are," the prefect said, wiping his hands on his robes. "The dungeons."

"Wicked!" Draco Malfoy whispered in Harry's ear and he nodded back.

"The password to the common room changes every fornight, the password now is, " the prefect said, standing in front of a great stone wall. " _Hydra._ "

The wall swung forward to reveal a passage that was carefully hidden. They climbed through it, until they reached a common room that was aglow with green.

The fire flickered in the fire place, and it had the feeling of the lake, dark and as smooth as glass.

Harry stared at it all in awe.

"The girl's dormitory," the prefect started. "is one the left. Boys are on the right. No boys allowed in the girl's dormitory."

Someone groaned loudly, and Hermione laughed.

Finally the prefect was done explaining, and Harry walked the steps to the dormitory, where he shared it with Neville, Draco and Blaise. While Hermione bid good night and went in the other direction.

He settled in to his bed, and put his things away, talked with Blaise for a while about muggle libraries, and finally, because his eyelids were drooping, went to bed. He thought about Hermione, and how Dumbledore looked at him during dinner, how Hermione said not to trust him.

He didn't.

It was certainly going to be an exciting year.

 **A.N: Okay, so I deleted the second chapter and reposted it because I got some comments that said it didn't quite make sense. And I hope this makes up for it! Anyway, Slytherin is prejudiced just because some Death Eater went there, it doesn't mean all Slytherins are bad.**

 **I also need a beta, if anyone would want to, if you can just pm me, that'd be great!**

 **Also, please review!**

 **.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter and the Days of Future's Past.**

 **.**

 **Chapter Two.**

 **.**

 **September 26th, 2002.**

 **Diagon Alley**

 **.**

 _There were people screaming._

 _Blood, everywhere on the streets, on muggles, on wizards, staining the sky scarlet. Hermione looked back one more time at her former classmates standing over the chaos, their eyes dark, glittering, malicious as they shot out curses and hit their targets._

 _"HARRY!" she cried, when death missed him by an inch, the green jet of light flying into the distance._

 _The world was on fire._

 _She wanted to fight, but as they loomed nearer, surrounding her, so close that she could smell the acridness of the breath, she knew that they were out numbered._

 _Hermione raised her wand, and shot out curses, but they didn't retreat. They only came nearer, and the lack of oxygen was suddenly painfully evident as she inhaled sharply._

 _"Hermione!" There was a rush of black hair as Harry rushed at her and grabbed her hand._

 _"Hold on," he said, as he took her hand and placed it on the old boot, Ron roaring._

 _She felt the familiar pull at her navel when her fingers touched the surface of the portkey. She watched as the world blurred until it disappeared completely._

 _Hermione was fighting for breath when they landed at the hideout in the underground of Diagon Alley, beneath what used to be the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as her eyes opened, she saw a wand pointed at her throat._

 _._

 _"What did I say to you the day after Dumbledore took control of the ministry?" Lupin questioned, his wand still pointed at her throat._

 _"Stay strong, hold on to the ones you love."_

 _Lupin lowered his wand and nodded, looking over at Kingsley, who was questioning Harry._

 _"He's the real Harry." Kingsley said, and Lupin visibly relaxed._

 _"Good."_

 _._

 _"It's dangerous," Kingsley started over dinner, which consisted of a little bread and some watery soup. "Time Travel."_

 _Hermione stared at the glass device on the table, gold and metallic and unmoved. Could this really send her back to the very beginning?_

 _"Especially when your consciousness is is traveling back years," he continued. "It's too risky."_

 _Hermione took a bite of the stale bread and bringing the spoon to her lips, swallowed. "Where will my present body be?" she asked, her voice small, soft._

 _"In an alternate dimension where the things you changed take place." Lupin said, his fingers resting on his temples. "You would come back after the Battle to a place where Dumbledore didn't infiltrate the Ministry of Magic. But, Hermione you don't have to-"_

 _"No," she said firmly. "Everything is on the line. Everything I've ever known. And it has to be me, because Dumbledore would know something was wrong if it was Harry."_

 _Her voice lowered to barely a whisper. "It has to be me."_

 _"Hermione," Harry, who was silent until now, said. "I won't let you. You'd have to experience everything all over again. I don't know….if…."_

 _Hermione shook her head. "It has to be me who goes back." she said, her eyes meeting his. "Do you trust me?"_

 _He didn't hesitate. "Yes. I trust you, Hermione. It's just...are you sure about this?"_

 _Hermione took his hand under the table, and he rubbed circles around her palm._

 _"No," she admitted. "But it's the only chance we've got."_

 **.**

 **I. Waking Up.**

 **.**

"Wake up, Harry!"

The voices were muffled as someone shook Harry's shoulders and he jolted awake. He snapped his eyes open and saw Neville looming over him, his pajamas ruffled slightly.

Was it true? Or was it all just a dream? That he had escaped the Dursleys and had begun at Hogwarts with Hermione and Neville, along with other first years, and that he now lived in dungeon with his fellow Slytherins?

He blinked and he saw Draco Malfoy struggling to pull his robes on, saw Theo Nott rubbing his nose, saw Blaise Zabini holding up a very thick textbook, and realized that it wasn't a dream. That all that happened last night was real and everything was only beginning.

He rubbed his eyes and saw Neville smiling at him. "First day at Hogwarts, Harry. Aren't you excited?"

He nodded. "Yeah. A little hungry, too. Where do we have breakfast?"

"The Great Hall, of course!"

Harry pulled on his robes and stuck his wand carefully in his pocket. He got out of his bed, hastily putting the blankets into their right place.

"Let's go," he said to Neville, who was balancing books and quills and parchment all in one hand, trying to put it in his bag. "Before there aren't any seats left."

Harry picked up his bag and spun around to face Draco Malfoy, who was looking carefully at a worn piece of parchment. "Coming, Draco?"

Draco nodded, and the three of them made way to the Slytherin common room, which was bathed in green lights, the fire red, yellow and gold in the fireplace.

"I was starting to wonder where you were!" Hermione said when he tapped her on the shoulder from where she was sitting. Hermione was carrying twenty or more books, all stuffed into her bag and slung around her shoulder. Neville and Draco gaped at her.

"What are you carrying that much for?" he asked, and she shook her head, moving her hand so it covered the titles of the books.

"Just some extra studying," she said, and Draco snorted.

Hermione had always wondered about him, about Draco Malfoy and light and darkness and shades of grey, of him lowering his wand on the Astronomy Tower and the fact that everything he was taught was wrong.

He had joined Harry when Voldemort fell and the world fell into chaos. Hermione would swear there was something that had flickered in his eyes when she had met him at another safe house, and he saw the mudblood scar.

 _Guilt_.

It had taken months for her to ever forgive him, though Harry trusted him, trusted his plans and strategies. It took a while for her to warm up to him, to realize that he was one of them.

Could she change the way Draco Malfoy thought though, when he was still young and impressionable?

"C'mon," Neville's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Let's go to breakfast."

They walked out of the dark passage and took the stairs out of the Dungeon and up to the Great Hall without getting lost. They gotten lost several times, despite Hermione warning them that the staircase led to nothing on weekdays and the door only opened at dinnertime.

They finally arrived at the Great Hall in all its splendor, sunlight seeping into the room and casting it in a warm, yellow glow, where Slytherins waved at them and Gryffindors scowled at them, Weasley's face especially scrunched up as he buttered his toast.

Neville tripped as they neared the tables, and Harry barely caught him by the fabric of his robes before he fell face forward.

They took their seats at the Slytherin table, plates full of toast and tomatoes and pitchers of fresh Pumpkin Juice. There a brunette Slytherin already sat, her mouth open and her eyes focused on Hermione.

"Well," she said, her eyes cold. "If it isn't the mudblood."

Harry looked up in confusion at Draco's surprised face and Neville's widened eyes. The brunette, who was Hermione's dorm mate, Pansy Parkinson only smiled.

Neville's grin disappeared. "Shut up!" he yelled, slamming his palm on the table. "Don't call Hermione that! You're not allowed to-"

Parkinson cut his off with a wave of her little hand. "Blaise told me, though he doesn't seem to mind. Did you know she was a mudblood, Draco? If you would have known maybe you wouldn't have spent as much time with her."

Draco swallowed looked around at Hermione, Neville, and Harry, who was still examining the situation.

"Maybe," he said slowly, and as he saw Hermione, who was smart and nice to him, he realized maybe his father was wrong about some things. His father said to him once that mudbloods were beneath them, and Draco had believed him,but now he wasn't so sure. "Maybe you shouldn't be calling people that, Pansy, after all, she's one of us. We don't pick on our own."

Parkinson's face turned an ugly, blotched red, and she hissed, " _Fine_. If you're going to be like that, Draco…" before she stood up and walked away.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"Mudblood is a rude term for Muggle-born." Draco said. "Us Purebloods were taught that muggles and muggle-born are beneath us."

Harry took a bite of his toast and brought the glass of Pumpkin juice to his lips. "But, it's not true, right?"

Neville and Hermione nodded fervently, and Draco said nothing.

 **.**

 **II. Classes.**

 **.**

Hogwarts was the strangest school Harry had ever seen.

There were strange staircases and doors that were different everyday,some that led to nothingness when you opened them, some that lead to the Dungeons on some days, the Charm corridor on others. And it was always made Harry shiver when the ghosts came out of nowhere, especially the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, who was covered in silver blood and always made Hermione jump.

Some of the Slytherins, most of them first years like Pansy Parkinson who didn't know any better, avoided Hermione whenever they could. They whispered mudblood as she passed and rolled their eyes when she answered a question correctly, laughing as she made a mistake.

Though most Slytherins still stood up for her whenever they could, and even Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, said to her, "Fools, the whole lot of them. You're brighter than all of them, and you're one of us; they deserve a lesson or two on manners."

Worse still, was Ron Weasley, who always laughed the hardest when Neville messed up and always said in the hallways, "Sorry, Potter! I don't _want_ your autograph!"

He was a complete and utter git.

The teachers were alright. McGonagall was strict with Transfiguration, and Harry had trouble keeping up, but thankfully, there was Hermione, who was apparently brilliant at it, to help him.

"It's easy Harry." she said. "You just have to wave your wand correctly and say the right words."

Harry watched Hermione transform a matchstick to a silver, pointy needle.

" _Well_ ," he said, raising his wand and pointing it to his matchstick. "It's easy for _you_."

There was a class called Defense Against the Dark Arts, who was taught by a quiet man called Quirrell, who wore a turban and reeked of garlic, which Neville told him was to ward of vampires, because he had met one in Romania.

"It's _obvious_ he's hiding something." Hermione said, but when Harry asked what she meant, she refused to say more.

Their Charms professor was a short wizard called Professor Flitwick, who had a squeaky little voice and taught them spells and charms patiently, with Hermione excelling, as usual and Neville constantly caused havoc as he struggled with Floating Charms and others spells.

Draco also struggled, although not as much, and he told Harry of the Wizarding Sport called Quidditch, which required players to ride on brooms and try to send a ball into a goalpost that was several feet high.

"My father got me a broom last month," Draco said during breakfast on a bright Friday morning, as Hermione was talking to Blaise Zabini about the spells they had learned so far in class, and Neville staring at a letter that his Grandmother had sent. "Do you have a broom, Harry?"

"No," he said glumly. "But I wish I did, though!"

Draco smiled at him. "Maybe," he said, "when I get mine we can take turns flying on it. I'm sure you'd be great!"

Harry beamed at this idea of riding a broom, of the wind in his face, and he nodded as Draco took another swig of Pumpkin juice. Just then Harry heard a familiar hoot, and saw Hedwig flying in the direction of the sugar bowl.

She dropped the letter on top of his glass and nipped his hand playfully as he held out the Owl Treats he had got at Diagon Alley days before.

"What is it?" Neville, who was sitting across from Harry asked.

Harry cleared his throat and read the messy scrawl, a note from Hagrid.

 _Harry-_

 _Congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin! Your parents would have been surprised, but proud of you. I know you get Fridays off, so would you want to come over and have a cup of tea at about three, and tell me about your first week?_

 _Hagrid_

He scribbled back a reply, and then there was a sudden flapping of wings and fluttering of feathers as Hedwig gave another hoot and ascended into flight.

"What do we have today?" Harry asked, after Hermione, Neville and even Draco-who had whispered something about oaf before reluctantly agreeing-talked about going to Hagrid's class after morning classes ended.

"Double Potions with the Gryffindors," Hermione said, and though she felt hesitation at meeting Severus Snape, she also had hope that he would help Harry, help them.

Harry groaned at the thought of Ron Weasley next to him, pointing to his scar and guffawing with his other Gryffindor friends.

"The potions teacher is Severus Snape though," Draco said, pointing in the direction of the where the professors were sitting, at a man with dark, greasy hair and a long, hooked nose. "He's head of Slytherin House."

Harry let out a sigh of relief and hoped that in Potions, their professor didn't think Gryffindors could do no wrong and that anyone in Slytherin was a slimy, evil git.

 **.**

 **III. Severus Snape.**

 **.**

Severus Snape gathered the scattered nettles from the remaining tables with the wave of his wand, watching as they soared into the open jar and the lid of the container slammed shut.

His thoughts drifted involuntary to the First Years, who he was to meet in barely a few minutes time, of Harry Potter, who had been sorted into Slytherin and had wrecked all of Dumbledore's plans.

Severus wasn't stupid, he knew after careful listening and certain interrogation that the Boy who Lived was nothing but a tool to be used, that Dumbledore had planned it out from the very start and that he never cared if Potter lived or not.

Severus inhaled sharply. And...he had her eyes.

He had seen him for the first time during the Sorting, and it had stirred back memories, of Lily Evans, and him breaking into her home only to find that it had been too late and that she was dead.

He took out the ingredients for the Potion that the First Years would be brewing and promised that he would...keep an eye on Harry Potter, make sure he wasn't lead down the wrong path, like him.

Because there was no one left to do so. Because Lily was dead and he hadn't stopped it. Because he regretted calling her mudblood and wished that he could take it back.

And mostly, because he was her son.

 **.**

 **IV. Potions.**

 **.**

"Be careful around Snape," Hermione said, when they finished breakfast and went back to the dungeons to gather their quills and textbooks. "He's…."

Harry looked at her, nonplussed and she wondered if she should explain.

She decided the night before that she wouldn't tell him she was from the future yet, but that she would tell him when the time was right, when he trusted her enough, but Hermione still didn't know if she should tell him about Severus Snape and his mother.

"He's what, Hermione?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and decided not to tell him, because it would arouse questions that she couldn't answer. "I've heard he's just...very strict with his students."

"Alright," Harry said, picking up his quill and tucking his wand in his pocket. "If you say so."

 **.**

They made their way to the dungeons where Potions took place and Harry, taking care not to let Weasley see him, sat in the back corner of the room, with Draco in front of him and Hermione behind him.

Neville had lost his way while in the crowd and arrived just a second before classes began. As such he took the only seat left-the seat next to Ron Weasley, who laughed when Neville accidentally dropped his cauldron, along with his textbooks.

The man with the dark hair Harry had seen earlier-Severus Snape strode in and the class was instantly silent.

He began reading of the roll card of the First Year students, and he paused at Harry's name.

"Harry Potter," he said as he got to Harry's name, and Harry crossed his fingers, praying that Snape wouldn't say anything else.

Weasley sniggered, said something about The Boy who wouldn't Sod Off, and he saw Neville's fists clench slightly underneath the desk as he murmured, "Shut up, Weasley."

Ron Weasley only laughed. " _You_?" he said, "in Slytherin? Did you cheat, Longbottom? Because the Sorting Hat must have put you in the first house it thought of because he found nothing in that brain of yours-"

" _Don't_ -" Hermione started, and the rest of the Slytherins glared at him.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape waved his hand, and the class was quiet once more. "The class does not to be informed of your stupidity, because we can all see it at first glance."

Harry fought a smile as Weasley reddened and Snape continued with the class, talking about Potions, Potions that could wake the dead and creating a concoction that could send poison crawling through one's veins.

"Now," Snape said, "Who can tell me what a bezoar is?"

Harry remembered Hermione telling him about it earlier...if only he could remember…

He looked over at Hermione, who was itching to raise her hand, but only shook her head at him and gestured him to raise his.

Harry finally raised his hand, hesitantly, and said, "I think...er...it's from a sheep, and it can cure poisons."

The edge's of Snape's mouth curled up into a half-smile. "Very good, Potter. Ten points to Slytherin."

Weasley rolled his eyes.

 **.**

After class was over, with Neville at Madam Pomfrey's because of the potion he had spilled over himself, Professor Snape held him back.

"It's okay," Hermione said. "Me and Draco'll just go see Neville. We'll meet you at the dorms. We're supposed to see Hagrid later, remember?"

Harry nodded and watched them walk away as the doorway of the Potions classroom slammed shut.

"Potter," Snape said, and he thought of the philosopher's stone, of Dumbledore. "There is something dangerous that is happening in Hogwarts, in the Wizarding World. You need to be careful and not be a complete and bloody idiot when you are around danger, I hope your father didn't pass that trait down to you."

Harry felt a pulse of anger, his fists clenching involuntarily, but he said nothing and only nodded stiffly.

"If you see anything, anything at all," Snape continued. "Come to me."

Harry's throat felt suddenly dry. "I will, Professor."

He was about to walk out of the classroom when Snape suddenly cleared his throat, and Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Potter," he said, his eyes grey and somehow, different. Snape looked at him now like Harry reminded him of someone, or something, but when Harry looked up, it was gone.

"Don't trust everyone, Potter," he said. "Don't trust everyone."

Snape then proceeded to walk into his office of Potion ingredients, and Harry was left gaping at his shadow, wondering what danger could be around the school.

 **.**

 **V. Hagrid's Hut.**

 **.**

Harry, along with Hermione, Draco and Neville-who was still looking a little dazed from sprouting boils-made their way to Hagrid's house.

It was a small, rickety hut that stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and there was a small, lonely patch behind it, that held some vegetables and oddly shaped plants.

Hermione was about to knock on the door when it opened suddenly, and Hagrid stood at the doorway, his huge frame leaning against it as he chuckled and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Hullo, Harry," he said, inviting them all to come into the little hut and feel at home.

"This is Hermione Granger," Harry pointed to Hermione. "Then Neville Longbottom, and Draco Malfoy."

"Longbottom?" Hagrid said, his face a mixture of fondness and pity and kindness. "I knew yer parents."

Hermione shook her head at the thought, at Alice and Frank Longbottom being tortured until they were mad by Death Eaters, at the thought of Neville visiting his parents, who probably didn't know him.

It was worse, she thought, than to have them dead, because Neville knew that they probably would never recover, and the people who had knew his parents all talked about them like they were already dead.

Neville looked down, unwilling to meet Hagrid's eyes.

Draco sensed the tension in the room and changed the subject quickly enough. "My father thinks you're a great big oaf." Draco said, and Harry buried his face in his hands.

"That so?" Hagrid said, muttering something under his breath. "What d'you think?"

"I think," Draco said, his voice barely a whisper. "That you're alright."

Hagrid laughed as Harry picked up a piece of newspaper that drifted to the floor and held it up. "Gringotts Break-In Latest," he read, and the room was instantly silent as he read the rest of the cutout.

Harry looked up at Hagrid. The date of the break-in was the day they were at Gringotts. Could it be the same time that they were there? The vault that only held one package, the package that Hagrid had taken out?

He looked over at Hermione, whose eyes had widened.

* * *

 **A.N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and sorry for not updating sooner! Cyber cookies for everyone! A special thanks to catspaw439, who beta'd this for me and was willing to edit this.**

 **Anyway, I've decided to have a poll of sorts. You guys get to decide who should be in a group.**

 **Choice 1: Neville, Harry, Hermione.**

 **Choice 2: Neville, Harry, Hermione, Draco.**

 **Please leave your choices in the reviews, and I will put it into account. The poll will be closed, and the results will come out next Saturday, about at GMT 11:00 p.m.**

 **Thanks again for listening to my rambling,**

 **El.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: i do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **Harry Potter and the Days of Future's Past.**

 **.**

 **Chapter Four.**

 **.**

 **I. Hagrid's Hut**

"Hagrid," Harry started. "Maybe we saw the robbery! It happened on the same day that we were at Gringotts, maybe we saw the thief."

Hagrid shook his head, and poured some more tea in Hermione's cup, handed a confused Neville a rock cake, which Neville accidently dropped onto Draco's foot, making him yelp in pain.

"Coincidence," Hagrid said, not meeting Harry's eyes, before quickly changing the subject to something else, before Harry or Hermione could say anything, about their classes and homework.

He shook his head at the fact that Ron Weasley would turn out to be like _that,_ and told them that his brothers, who worked with dragons and with goblins were actually unlike him.

They laughed when Hagrid told them a story of Fang, the dog that stood by the door, and soon, Harry almost forgot about the break in.

But even after the colour of the sky turned a dark indigo and Neville reminded them that they needed to go back to the Great Hall for dinner if they wanted to arrive on time, the paper lingered in his mind still, the grubby package that Hagrid had taken out of vault seven hundred and thirteen.

 **.**

Hermione barely touched her food when they sat down on the Slytherin table, next to Pansy Parkinson and her friends, who laughed and pointed at her hair, whispered _mudblood_ when they thought that she couldn't hear.

She knew that the package contained the stone, and that soon, a series of events would be put into place and that Harry would be put to the test, _she_ would be put to the test.

It was all beginning, and Hermione wondered if she was ready.

 **.**

 **II. Nightmare.**

 **.**

" _Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! I'll hold him off-"_

 _There was a sudden burst of light around the room as her hands tightened around the crib in which Harry was staring at her, wide green eyes that were her own._

 _She didn't want it to end this way._

 _Her heartbeat was quickening, and she could barely hear Voldemort descend the stairs and head in her direction, to Harry. The beat of the world slowed to the rhythm of the wind._

" _I love you," she whispered to Harry, and Lily clenched her fists, tried to think of something else, anything else. It would be over soon, she thought. It would be over soon. "I love you, remember that."_

 _Lily's eyes were glistening as Voldemort stepped into the room, his wand outstretched._

" _Not Harry," she whispered. "Please...not Harry."_

" _Step aside, you silly girl," he hissed. "Stand aside now."_

" _Not Harry," she repeated, her voice breaking. "Take me instead...have mercy…"_

 _Screams as he stepped closer, closer still. He raised his wand, red slit pupils gleaming. At last, he thought, the prophecy wouldn't be fulfilled, at last..._

 _A flash of green, and then nothing._

 **.**

Harry's eyes snapped open, his scar tingling and prickling with pain, and sweat running down his cheeks. His breathing was rushed, and he tried to push the image to the back of his mind, of his mother, with red hair and eyes exactly like his.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville, who was awoken by Harry's cries and gasps for air, said.

Harry had noticed that Draco was awake too, staring at him concernedly from the bunk across from him.

"It was just a dream," Harry said, and pushing away the heavy blankets he got out of bed. "I need air. Are you coming?"

Neville and Draco yawned and nodded, climbing over the bunks and following Harry to the Slytherin common room, where the flames glowed yellow and gold in the fireplace and the room was dotted with scarce green lights.

"Did you have a nightmare, Harry?" Draco asked, leaning on one of the comfortable chairs. "You were practically screaming in your sleep."

"Yeah," Harry said. "It was my...mother."

Neville stared at him with wide eyes. "You still remember her?"

"No," he continued, scratching his head. "She was trying to protect me...but Voldemort...he told her to step aside, and she didn't, and there was this flash of green and I woke up and my scar sort of...prickled."

Neville had gone pale. "You saw _him_? What did he look like?"

"He was pale...and he had red eyes and there's this place where his skin caves in because he has no nose."

Harry had the strange impulse to laugh at the fact that the Dark Lord had no nose, but he kept his silence.

"Maybe you should tell Snape," Draco suggested after pondering for a while, "Your scar isn't supposed hurt, is it?"

"I'm sure it's perfectly normal," Harry said, shuddering slightly at the thought of his Head of House. "I've just never noticed it before."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "It's never happened before, has it, Harry?"

Harry rubbed his palms together and swallowed. He had seen his mother, he had seen _Voldemort,_ red eyes gleaming, and he couldn't erase it out of his mind.

"No," he said quietly. "It's never happened before."

"Are you sure you don't want to tell Snape?" Neville asked. "He could help you, Harry. He's the Head of Slytherin, I don't think-"

"I'm sure," Harry said shakily. "I think it'll all be over in the morning. It was just a bad dream."

"Alright," Draco, who had gone to a corner to make tea, sighed. "But you're telling Hermione when we wake up and go to breakfast."

Harry took a sip of the tea and groaned.

"Deal."

 **.**

" _Really?"_ Hermione said when Draco nudged Harry and he told her everything, about the dream, about the scar hurting and about waking up in the middle of the night lying a pool of his own sweat. "You dreamed about your mother?"

"Yes," Harry replied, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "I'm sure it's alright, though, which I told Draco and Neville. Though they didn't seem to believe me."

Hermione shook her head. "Of _course_ it isn't alright," she said, taking a closer look at his scar. "It hasn't happened before, has it?"

Harry shook his head. Why was it, he thought, that they all asked the same questions?

"It's never normal," Hermione was saying, "to have nightmares about your parents...dying."

Harry thought of his mother, red hair and eyes like his, and blinked hard, rubbed his forehead slightly.

"But I was never normal in the first place," Harry said, and something turned inside of him. "I was always _different,_ and at first, I thought it was because a wizard, but now, I think it's because of Voldemort."

There was a long period of silence as the rest of the table stared at him, mouths slightly agape at the mention of You-Know-Who's name, and Harry quickly finished his breakfast and picked up his robes, following Hermione, Draco and Neville down the corridors.

"Tell Snape, Harry," Hermione said gently once they were out of eyeshot. "I'm sure he wouldn't try to do anything to hurt you if you told him."

"But he's…." Harry trailed off. "Please, Hermione. I really don't want to tell him. He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Draco said. "He's like that to everyone."

"No," Harry said, as they neared the field where they were to have flying lessons with the Gryffindors. "He looks at me...it's like it pains him to look at me, Hermione. He _hates_ me."

Hermione murmured something under her breath that sounded awfully like a name, and then sighed.

"Fine," she said. "Don't tell Snape about this."

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"But," Hermione continued, and Harry wrinkled his brow. Why was there always a _but_? "If anything happens ever again, you have to promise me to go to Professor Snape."

"Hermione-"

"We'll go with you," Draco cut in. "He can't kill all of us at once, can he?"

Neville, who was silent until now, agreed, and Harry closed his eyes.

"Fine," he said, just as they arrived just in time for their flying lessons, where Weasley and the rest of the Gryffindors were waiting. "I promise, Hermione."

 **.**

 **III. Flying Lessons.**

 **.**

Harry would've been excited for flying lessons; Draco had been talking it about it all week, especially Draco, who told him stories about flying around the countryside where he lived and about Wizarding Quidditch Teams, who apparently competed for the Quidditch World Cup every four years; but they had flying lessons with _Gryffindors,_ and the image of Ron Weasley laughing at him falling off a broom set a bitter taste in Harry's mouth.

The rest of the Slytherins, also groaned when they saw the announcement, and even Blaise Zabini, who didn't dislike anyone, was put into a sour mood by the time all the Slytherins arrived at the field.

The teacher, a grey haired witch with grey hair called Madam Hooch was waiting for them, and told them to take their brooms, which were old and dusty, lift their right hand over them to make them fly into their palms.

"UP," Harry said, and the handle of the broom, surprisingly, flew into his outstretched palm.

Madam Hooch went around correcting their posture, telling them how to mount their brooms before telling them to kick off the ground and rise a few feet before descending to the ground.

Neville, who was a little too nervous, kicked off too soon and proceeded to fly off into the sky.

"Neville!" Hermione screamed when he soared another ten feet. "Come back down!"

She took out her wand, but it was too late. Neville had fallen to the ground with a sickening crack, along with the pieces of the broken broomstick flying everywhere.

They rushed over to them, but they were told to stand back by Madam Hooch, who was studying Neville with a pale face.

"Broken arm," she murmured as she helped him up. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital. If you do, you'll be expelled."

They disappeared, and the Slytherins, and even the Gryffindors were silent for a minute before chatter broke out, especially from the Gryffindor side, where Ron Weasley was talking loudly about brooms.

"Well," Ron Weasley was saying loudly to another Gryffindor when Harry, Hermione, Neville and Draco loomed closer. "Malfoy's father has money, but he can't buy skill-"

He was cut off by a loud cough from Draco, who had almost lunged at him but was held back at the shoulder by Harry.

"Shut up, Weasley," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at the redhead wizard. "You don't even know-"

"His father's a _Death Eater_ for Merlin's sake," Weasley said. "His father worked for the person who murdered your parents, and you dare defend that piece of-"

There was another growl from Draco who would almost be out of Harry's grip if Theo Nott hasn't rushed and pulled him back.

"Really, Potter? That's low, even for a Slytherin."

Harry was at a loss for words, because he had gone slightly pale, and Hermione stepped forward.

"Please use your pea of a brain to think clearly, Weasley," Hermione said coolly, and Ron Weasley went red in the face.

"If we continue to live in the past and not to move on, you will have never lived at all," she continued. "You think you can say that about Draco because his father was a Death Eater?"

"You don't know _anything_ ," Weasley hissed.

Harry, who was quiet until now, stood up. "He's my friend," he said. "He's not his father."

"He'll turn up like his father," Ron said. "You shouldn't be with his kind, he isn't worth-"

Draco, with a sudden burst of strength, had broken out of Theo and Harry's grip and lunged at Weasley, who had already mounted his broom and soared into the air.

Draco quickly caught on to him, and before Harry knew what he was doing, he had mounted his broom and was in the air, too.

He soared after Draco, the movement feeling natural and as easy as breathing, who was hissing at Weasley, his fists clenched and his whole body tense.

"Don't," Harry said to Draco as he dived up and down and up again. "He's really not worth all that effort."

"He..insulted..my...father," Draco said between breaths just as he caught on to Weasley. "No...one…"

His fist almost touched the side of Weasley's cheek just as Minerva Mcgonagall, head of Gryffindor House arrived, and they all dived to the ground.

"Never...in all my time…." she was saying, her eyes flashing with fury. "Weasley, come with me."

Ron, who looked utterly bewildered, followed her, and Harry and Draco were left staring at Mcgonagall's shadow.

"Are you two alright?" Hermione had rushed at them, her eyes widened in concern.

"We're fine, Hermione," Harry said, waiting until Draco calmed down so he could continue. "Nothing that a cookie or two later can't fix."

 **.**

 **IV. Defense of the Dark Arts**

 **.**

They later went to the infirmary to check on Neville, who was looking a little dazed from falling twenty feet, but healed, and the four of them headed their way to the Defence of the Dark Arts classroom, where they had class with Ravenclaws-Harry let out a breath, Ravenclaws were better classmates than Gryffindors, he thought.

He took his usual seat next to Hermione and behind Neville, who was sitting with Draco in the second row, and as students began filing in, Harry took out the assigned homework.

It was a roll of parchment on vampires, which Harry spent all of last night finishing, with Hermione correcting every few minutes and Neville and Draco trying to copy it without it being exactly the same.

"P-Please hand in y-your homework at the f-front,"Quirrell said quietly as they all arrived and settled into their seats.

They formed a single file to Quirrell's desk, which was at the very corner of the classroom, and while in line, Harry checked his assignment again, the bright green ink smearing across paper as he stepped forward and dropped it into Quirrell's outstretched palm.

"Harry Potter," Quirell suddenly said, in a voice that wasn't his at all. "Wait."

The professor turned until Harry saw the back of his head, where the turban had fallen off, which had suddenly seemed to have…..things that looked eerily like eyes….like... a mouth...a nose.

Harry took a step back. The back of Quirrell's head, was a face.

"Harry Potter," Quirell suddenly said, in a voice that wasn't his at all. "Wait."

A hiss, and the face neared him until he could smell the acridness of it's breath.

"Harry Potter," the face at the back of Quirrell's head spat, Quirrell's hand lunging at him, almost touching him if Hermione hadn't pulled him back. "At last."

There was another hiss, and Quirrell turned back around. "P-potter, g-go back t-to your seat."

Harry stepped back, and ran back to his seat, where Draco and Neville already sat, eyes focused on the remembrall that Neville's gran sent.

"Did you see that?" Harry breathed.

"See what?"

 **.**

"That is _it,"_ Hermione said once they were out of the classroom. "We're going to Snape's."

"Hermione-"

She trudged the steps to Snape's office, along with Draco and Neville, who still didn't know what had taken place earlier.

"There was something at the back of Quirrell's head," Harry explained. "It hissed at me and lunged at my face."

" _What?"_ Neville gasped. "A face? At the back of Quirrell's turban?"

"It spoke in this voice that wasn't Quirrell's," Harry said as they walked down another corridor. "It sounded...familiar, like I've heard it before somewhere."

Hermione was about to say something, but she was stopped because they had arrived at Snape's office.

She raised her fist and knocked three times on the door.

 **.**

 **V. Snape's Office.**

 **.**

"What is it," the door opened with a click, and Severus Snape stood at the doorway. "Please don't tell me that you have gotten into trouble."

"No," Hermione said. "Professor, it's about Harry."

He gestured half heartedly for them to enter his office, a dimly lit room with stacks of glass jars piled around the rooms, potion ingredients, most likely, Harry thought. Or poison.

"What about Potter?" Snape said, waving his wand and watching the papers and glass jars disappear off some of the chairs. "Sit."

They settled into the chairs, and Hermione shook her head and said, "Harry, you tell him yourself."

"Er..we were in Defence of the Dark Arts earlier with Ravenclaws...and...er...Professor Quirrell, he.."

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," Snape said. "Speak clearly. I don't understand a word you're saying."

Harry inhaled deeply. "I was handing in an assignment, and the back...the back of Quirrell's head...spoke, like it had a voice. And...and then he turned around...and there was a...face beneath the turban, it said my name and said something about _at last._ "

Snape simply stared at him. "Quirrell?" he asked after a long period of silence. "Are you sure, Potter? Did anyone else but you see this 'incident' or is it really just proof that you're deluded?"

"I saw it, Professor," Hermione said. "It lunged at him, Quirrell's hands, and I pulled him back."

"I never thought it would…"Snape was mumbling under his breath. "Quirrell…"

He shook his head and looked up back at the four of them.

"If what you say is true, Granger," he said, almost softly, but not quite. "Than this is all more serious than I thought."

He furrowed his brow in concentration, hands tapping the wood of his table.

"You four," Snape finally said, "be at the Defense of the Dark Arts at eight thirty tomorrow. I trust Granger to lead you there. Do not tell any student or teacher, do not tell anyone."

He opened the door with another click and they headed out the door, basking in the yellow glow.

"And don't bother knocking the next time you come to find me," Snape said. "Only basic muggles do that."

He nodded at them, and without another word the door slammed shut.

 **.**

They would've walked the normal way to the dungeons, but instead they chose another corridor, to walk through, because the other way was to dark at night.

"I see shadows," Harry heard a voice from the distance. "Students out in the corridors, Mrs. Norris."

"It's Filch," Draco whispered to Harry as they tried to tiptoe as quietly as possible across the hallway. "Run!"

They tried to run, but Filch loomed closer still, and there was no way that they could be hidden...unless...Harry pressed his wand to the gleaming door in front of him, and recited the spell they had learned in charms, _Alohomora,_ and Hermione screamed, "NO! Harry!" but it was too late. The four of them were inside the room, which Harry thought was quite comfortable until the seat Draco thought he was sitting on opened a bright, yellow eye.

Harry opened the door knob at the last minute, and the four of them tumbled out onto the-thankfully-empty corridor.

"A three headed dog,"Neville said as they raced back to the Slytheirn dungeons and settled into their dorms. "I saw it when I was backing away. Did you see it?"

"I was sitting on it,"Draco said, shuddering. "It was bloody disgusting! All drooling and…"

Harry was too busy thinking about what a three headed dog was doing at Hogwarts to reply.

 **.**

 **VI. The Defense of the Dark Arts Classroom.**

 **.**

At eight thirty the next day, Hermione lead the way to the Defense of the Dark Arts Classroom, which Harry learned could change at will.

Professor Snape had already arrived, because when the four of them stepped in, he was standing at the edge of the room with his wand outstretched, green and red sparks flying out of the tip.

"Each of you take out your wands and show me the best of your magical abilities," he said when he saw them come in.

Hermione took out her wand, and transfigured the pillow into a guinea pig, and Draco performed _Wingardium Leviosa,_ Neville tried to turn Trevor a different colour and failed, and Harry succeeded after several tries turning the cushion into a needle.

"Good,"Snape murmured. "Now, do you know why you are here?"

They shook their head in unison.

"You will need magical training," Snape said. "All four of you. Because there are things that are beginning in this school, dangerous things, and I do not want the four of you to go charge at the first signs of danger like a fool."

Harry nodded, and Hermione raised her hand.

"What exactly, Professor, will we be learning?"

"Stunning, Disarming, spells that will save your from death," Snape said, "You will be trained and ready for every, for any possible moment."

"Now take out your wands again," Snape said, and Harry whipped out his rubbed it between his fingers. "Today we're going to try Disarming spells."

 **.**

An hour later and Harry could almost, nearly make Hermione's wand wobble out of her hand, and he sighed in frustration as Hermione yelled, " _Expelliarmus!"_ and Harry's wand flew instantly out of his fingers.

Neville and Draco weren't doing so well, either at the looks of it, Neville kept falling over, and Draco could also make Neville's wand wobble slightly if he concentrated.

"That's it for tonight," Snape said coldly, gesturing to the door of the Defense of the Dark Arts Classroom. "You will come here every night at eight thirty, no excuse allowed."

Harry, whose eyelids were almost drooping and hair was wet with sweat stopped in his tracks, turned. "Professor," he said. "Do you know anything about the a three headed dog?"

* * *

 **a/n: hi guys! Thank you so much for reviewing. The results are in, and the winner is choice 2: Draco, Harry, Hermione and Neville!**

 **Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. And don't forget to review, follow and fav！**


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